Promises to Keep
by Tinya
Summary: Obi Wan Kenobi must face the consequences of promises made as a new hope is born amidst chaos.


~T~iny among the vastness between stars, the sharp nose of the ship sliced through space like the arrowhead it resembled. Starlight glinted dully off battered red and silver accents along the wings as it hung like a metallic tear in the round face of an antiquated hyperspace ring. A muted whir and a series of beeps sounded, light blue characters scrolled across a tiny screen in the recesses of the cockpit controls. Blue eyes hidden in tired shadows flickered slightly, pricked by the ghost of an emotion. "Yes, the coordinates are correct, Arfour. We're going to the Dagobah system." Obi Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight and General of a dying Republic, brushed a hand back through tangles of red-blond hair, feeling the scratch of sand and dust as it fell down the collar of his robes. "I have a promise to keep," he said, softly.  
  
Rain streamed off his cowl as he peered into the misty overgrowth. A series of low beeps sounded behind him. "No, Arfour, stay with the fighter," he said quickly, hearing the droid's servos whine as it rose from it's socket. Turning back to the murky maze of vines and trees before him, Obi Wan shivered slightly, feeling tendrils of something cold and dark brush past his conciousness. So that's why he chose this place, the Jedi Knight mused. Various nocturnal animals cried out to each other as Obi Wan manuvered slowly through the swamp, avoiding the shadowed cave mouth.  
  
  
He could just make out the rounded dome of a tiny dwelling ahead, half hidden in a tangle of new growth, sprouting from the ancient swamp floor in seemingly random riots of green and gray. He raised a hand and pushed, and the door trembled open. A brisk fire burned in the center of the hearth, and the shadows chased each other around his face and eyes as he stood on the threshold. Visitors to this out of the way sanctuary were few, and Yoda already harboured one fugitive. Yoda paced slowly in front of the fire, then paused, turning to look at the new arrival, but Obi Wan looked instead to the small alcove that held the Jedi Master's meager bedding.   
  
Looking back at him were the saddest eyes Obi Wan had ever seen. Deceptively calm, the young woman's deep brown eyes were framed by waves of long brown hair that fell almost to her waist. She stood painfully erect as he entered, one hand curling reflexively around her gravid belly. Padme Amidala Nabierre Skywalker was once the Queen of Naboo, a Senator of the Galactic Republic and the wife of the most powerful Jedi Padawan in recorded history. Now, she was just another refugee, a victim of the chaos that had followed the Clone Wars and the ascension of Emperor Palpatine. The resulting conflicts had engulfed the galaxy and left her bereft of her planet, office and even the comforting presense of her husband. Anakin, emotionally volatile at the best of times, had become increasingly unstable in recent months and it was feared that he might be under the influence of a Dark Lord of the Sith.   
  
For a few heartbeats, only Obi Wan knew the truth. His eyes, hidden in the shadow of his hood, were unreadable as Padme instantly scanned his form with all the nuance of a politician who is used to reading the most taciturn of individuals. His robe shifted slightly and revealed the worn leather belt and the pouches that held his few possesions. A soft clink, barely audible over the crackle of the fire, was her only warning. Padme saw, with an awful clarity, the two lightsabers hanging from his belt: the Jedi Knight's own weapon, with it's distinctive mauve button and black tines, and another, less refined saber, made for a larger hand more interested in power than grace.   
  
Anakin's lightsaber.   
  
Her breath fled in a rush, her fingers clutching an edge of the alcove with her hands, as if the wall were suddenly all that held her upright. Slowly at first, then faster, she began to sob, her voice a low, keening wail of despair and pain. Her sobs became soft exclamations as she slid to her knees, clutching her abdomen as a stream of water ran down her legs to pool darkly on the floor. They had barely made her comfortable in Yoda's sleeping area when she began to scream.  
  
  
  
~T~he screams lasted longer than the body's ability to vocalize them. Toxic fumes had scarred his throat as the molten liquid consumed his hair, skin, blood and muscle. Anakin Skywalker had been the Chosen One, a hero of the Clone Wars, the Jedi padawan of Obi Wan Kenobi, the protogee of Qui-Gon Jinn and the husband of Padme Amidala Nabierre. Now he was scarcely recognizable as a member of the living. If he had been almost anyone else, he would be dead.   
  
But the young man was not anyone else.  
  
Anger was his breath, hate sounded in his heartbeat, and his very being refused to concede power over his life, even to death itself. The Dark Side of the Force was more than his ally then, it's power and his tenacious grip within it was all that held him to life. Anakin couldn't feel the chill grasp of the machines which held back the scalding magma. His burned eyelids couldn't open to catch a glimpse of the palid figures in dark robes who hovered near the edge of the abyss, their sunken, reddened eyes flicking between his limp form and the silent, hooded figure who stood within the flickering holo-projector at their side, nor could he see the figure's slight, grim smile.  
  
  
  
~A~ soft, pain-filled smile floated across Padme's face, but never seemed to reach her mournful eyes. "Leia," she whispered, kissing the unbelievably soft brown down on her daughter's head. Obi Wan sat gingerly at the foot of the bed, uncertainly cradling the other twin, a boy. She had named him Luke in the moment he followed his sister into the universe, bloody and screaming, falling into Obi-Wan's shaking hands. A brand new pair of lives, born into the destruction of so many. Obi Wan heard the strained voice of Qui Gon, asking him to train the boy with his last breath, heard the pride bending in Anakin's voice as he asked his mentor to protect the woman he had loved for over a decade, heard the young man's cry as he fell into the smoking crater. Yoda turned his head to watch his old padawan, watching wave after wave of shame, guilt and sadness wash over the chisled features. The tiny Jedi Master met Padme's eyes and saw the depth of her understanding and her pain as she said softly, "You are a man of your word, Master Kenobi." Then Padme Amidala Nabierrie Skywalker reached out and placed a hand softly on his forearm, just below the blanket that held her son.  
  
  
~T~he blanket moved slightly, but the newborn slept on, nestled in the crook of Beru Lars' arm. Obi Wan Kenobi turned for a last look at his charge as Beru held him gently, standing transfixed in the doorway of the homestead. The Jedi Knight and General of the Republic shivered slightly in the sunset driven wind that swept across the sandy plain. He pulled his cowl over his red-gold hair as he turned away and moved with deliberate steps across the dry, cracked ground that led away from the Lars Homestead. The sun lined his figure in a halo of bronze as he made his way into the Dune Sea to fulfill his final promise. 


End file.
